#many chapters

Cassandra Nash walked slowly behind the counter at the diner in Upper West Side Manhattan, right on the border of where Hell's Kitchen would begin. She looked clearly exhausted, her concealer barely doing any help to mask the bags under her eyes, with her dark blonde hair in a messy bun, several strands falling into her face.

         She worked as a part-time waitress to help cover the fees at Columbia, along with a low paying entry level job at a solar panel company, but she was in her last two years of the Robotics PhD program (she was young for a student who was almost done with her PhD, only being twenty-eight, and would be three years younger than when the average PhD student would be done). She had a Masters in Mechanical and Electrical Engineering. She was contemplating turning her Masters in Electrical Engineering into a PhD as well — she did eventually want a job in making green technology. Cassandra knew as soon as she was done, she was potentially looking at working for Tony Stark — she clearly had the smarts and the ambition. He was one of the only people in clean, renewable energy and she knew she could learn a lot from him. To add to it, her mother was a retired S.H.I.E.L.D agent (living comfortably in Orlando), and perhaps Cassandra had a bit of a pull in that area too.

         Ace's Diner was quiet, especially during that time of night, but the diner had certainly grown on her, as she had been working there since she was twenty-four (which might be a reason she was still there, patiently waiting to be done with school to leave). Cassandra was alone, other then the one busboy, and the cook, and no one would come to relieve her until the morning shift began. She was relatively used to this — working nights to pay for her books and off-campus apartment. She also tutored younger students and helped manage the on campus library in her off time (which also helped her focus on her projects/homework).

        The bell over the door rang, catching Cassandra's attention, her eyes flickering from her Robotics textbook to the patron who had walked in. He was tall, with a dark blue sweatshirt zipped all the way up, along with the hood, but she could see the baseball cap on underneath it. She found him slightly suspicious, but shrugged it off. Her mother had trained her from an early age, briefly wanting her daughter to follow in her footsteps, plus self-defense would never be a bad thing (especially in New York City).

        Cassandra walked slowly towards the man who had entered, who took a booth in the back. She barely got a word out when he told her that all he was interested in was black coffee. And a lot of it. She complied, bringing back the coffee pot that had freshly brewed coffee as its contents. She poured it slowly, eyes flickering over him, trying to catch any of his features that he was hiding under the cap.

       She returned to her textbook, pouring herself a cup of coffee. There was no way she was going to last the night without it. She was leaning over the counter, her back to the chef's window, and facing the entrance — the mysterious patron was down to her right, and she could see him watching her briefly through the corner of her eye. She paid him no-nevermind, reading through the chapter she was pretty sure she knew by heart at this point. But she has never earned anything less then a B+ during her time at Columbia, and she intended to keep it that way — always aiming for top marks.

        The man cleared his throat and her honey colored eyes flickered over to him. He had his coffee cup on the edge of his table, and she could only guess that it was empty. She sauntered back over to him, and that was when she caught sight of the bruising around his left eye socket. Cassandra was only briefly caught off guard, and instead of reacting to it, she only offered a small smile.

        She placed the coffee pot down onto the table after pouring him a cup, not even saying a word as she left it at his table. He smirked before she walked back to the counter, turning the page, taking a sip of her coffee (after adding both cream and sugar). She did not really notice what the man was doing, or that he is simply staring out the window, lost in his own head. Nor did she notice that the busboy had fallen asleep in the kitchen, while the chef watched Netflix on his laptop. Weeknights were usually always this dead, weekend nights were where it really depended; sometimes there was a bunch of drunk/hungover civilians coming in for late-night snacks and coffee, or they were as dead as weeknights. Either way, Cassandra went with the flow — even though she did prefer the nights she could study and get paid for it.

       A cop car pulled up on the opposite side of the road, both officers needing a caffeine boost. Cassandra smiled as they entered, not even noticing as the mysterious man kept his head down, but with all his focus on the two officers. Both were general regulars during the night, but Cassandra barely remembered their names.

        They were both female officers, which had Cassandra's respect the first time she met them. Ortiz was the older of the two, having two children and a husband in accounting, while Blake was newly married to a ballet dancer.

        Cassandra was quick to pour them each a cup of coffee from the only remaining pot behind the counter. She did not falter, even if the authority would be intimidating to just about anyone. She supposed it was because she grew up with a mother who was in a similar boat that she reacted easily to the women, trading boring small talk to pass the time.

        Ortiz and Blake were discussing the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, which had Cassandra's interest. Vigilante types had always fascinated her; she practically begged her mother to tell her anything and everything she knew about the Avengers. Opinions differed widely when it came to the issue of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen — you either thought he was a vigilante, borderline hero, or you thought he was a criminal. And at the thought of having someone currently roaming the streets, protecting civilians, put Cassandra's mind at ease, even a little. Not many cared too much about the "little guys" or your everyday New Yorker. She, however, did not disclose her opinion to either of the officers, walking the line between both opinions, a tactic she had learned from her mother.

They paid and left, each only having a cup, and she took both mugs back to the kitchen, looking slightly annoyed at D.J., the sleeping busboy. When she returned to the counter, she noticed that the man left, the coffee pot completely empty (she did not see him pour the remaining contents into a thermos), but there was a twenty on the counter beside his cup. Coffee was not nearly that expensive, so she had gotten a decent sized tip.

Cassandra returned the coffee pot to behind the counter, discarding the used cup into the sink, before returning to her textbook. Her cellphone buzzed in her apron, and she placed it on the counter, seeing a text message from her friend Eliza.

Study session tomorrow? it read. Eliza was on the path to a Chemical Engineering PhD, and even though the women would not be studying the same material, it was still nice to have company.

Bring pizza? Cassandra sent back.

Her phone buzzed moments later, Of course!

Cassandra smiled, beginning to filter through her social media. Just another brief distraction from the slow night, and there was nothing of particular interest.

By the time Vera came to relieve Cassandra, along with Nathan, she was just about to pass out. Her trip home was relatively short, either a very quick subway ride and a block to walk, or about a seven minute walk. She only took the subway if she was running late, or if she was particularly exhausted, like she was that day, otherwise the exercise was never a bad thing.

Her apartment was tiny, her dining room and living room smashed together, the couch barely fitting into the space (she did not even own a dining table for this reason, instead eating at her coffee table). Her kitchen was small, but it was really all she needed, as she did not cook often. The bathroom was tiny, but it had the necessities, and that was really all Cassandra required. Her bedroom barely fit her full sized bed (it's smushed into the back, stretching to be touching both walls) and her dresser. It had a tiny closet however, which was nice enough for her.

Cassandra set the alarm on her phone for class and climbed into her bed, falling asleep moments after closing her eyes.

While lying on your bed you stare at the ceiling of your room. Unable to believe that you were here. Unable to believe how out of the thousands of other women who had applied for this chance, you had won. Rolling over you sigh and think back on the events that had led to you lying in this bed, in a foreign country. You close your eyes and think about how you had gotten to this house. The House of Army.

                            *12 Months Earlier*

You had just shut your locker door when your best friend Jane ran up to you excited. “Y/N! You will never guess what I just heard about!” She yells, unable to contain her excitement. “What is it Jane?” You ask curiously. Though you felt like you knew what she was excited about. There was only one reason she would be this excited, and that was because she had learned something new about her favorite Korean Pop Group, Bangtan Sonyeondan, or BTS for short.

“BigHit Just released that they were going to have a lottery that anyone who meets the qualifications could apply for!” She said quickly, without breathing.

“A lottery for what?” you ask confused.

“A lottery to decide who will get to go and stay with the boys…and the best part is…it’s to see which lucky fan gets to date their bias!” she says almost working herself into a frenzy in the middle of the hall. “Calm down,” you tell her, putting one hand on her shoulder, “Breath with me now. In... and out” after you managed to calm her down enough that she was able to talk without telling the entire school what they were talking about you ask her “I take you’re applying?” “Duh!” she replied, rolling her eyes at me exaggeratedly. “I am going to apply for Rap Monster! Are you going to apply? For the chance to date Jimin?” she raises her eyes suggestively and wiggles her eyebrows at you.

You had always been a major fan of Jimin. Ever since you had seen the video of him saying “Excuse me!” with his adorable eye smile, you hadn’t been able to stop wondering about him. What he was doing, if he was sleeping or eating properly, and most important of all, you had always wondered what he was really like. Behind the façade, the side of him that he didn’t show his fans. “I don’t know,” you say uncertainly, “I would love to have the chance to meet him, plus he’s my bias so I would absolutely die if I got the chance to date him, but you know I have no luck when it comes to lotteries. You’re always the one that wins those!”

“You’ll never know unless you try! Who knows, this could be your chance!” she said encouragingly. “Apply with me,” she said, giving you the puppy dog eyes. You could never resist her puppy dog eyes. “Ugh.. Fine!” you say sighing, “Wait, didn’t you say there were qualifications to apply? What are they?”  “Well,” she said importantly, “There aren’t very many!” Pulling out and unlocking her phone she typed something in, scrolled down a little way and finally read:

The applicant must meet the following guidelines to apply:

1.       Only those applicants born between 1 January 1990 and 31 December 2000 will be considered for this opportunity.

2.       The applicant must submit with the application a copy of a physical so that she may prove that she does not have any terminal illness or disease.

3.       On the application, the woman applying must choose one boy they would like the chance to win the date with.

 “That’s it! They only have three rules! I looked into it earlier during study hall, and in the press release from BigHit it said that they don’t care about race, height, weight or even what country the girl is from, they won’t even be the ones seeing the information! They’re going to be submitting all the information to a third party, who, after checking that the applicant meets the standards will be putting the applicant's name into a drawing!” “So, you mean it’s like the Bachelor, meets the Hunger Games, meets BTS? Sounds fun,” you say jokingly.

She laughs and pulls you along to class saying excitedly, “We’ll start after school!”

So together you two had scheduled physicals, attached them to the applications, and then sent them off. You had mainly done it to give Jane emotional support. You had known that there was no way that you would be chosen. Only forty-nine girls out of thousands would be chosen. Seven for each boy; beyond that, you didn’t know any more details. You hadn’t looked into it. Eleven months later you had almost completely forgotten about the fact that you had entered. You hadn’t heard anything, and then all of a sudden you got a letter in the mail.

“Congratulations, Ms. <Y/N> you have been selected as a candidate for a chance to date Park Jimin of the band Bangtan Sonyeondan! You find enclosed inside a ticket to Jeju Island, South Korea, where a representative will pick you up and take you to the House of Army where you will be staying with the other girls who have also won the chance to date Park Jimin. Congratulations again on your winning the lottery, and we look forward to seeing you.”

                                 *Present Day*

You hadn’t been able to believe your eyes and had quickly called Jane to see if she had gotten a letter for Namjoon, but as you told her about your letter she had gone quiet. You knew her answer without her having to have her say anything. She hadn’t gotten chosen. The girl who won every drawing, every game of chance had lost, but you, the one who had the worst luck in the world had won.

When you had gotten to go to the House in Jeju you had been surprised to learn that the boys had actually been separated into three different houses. Jimin and J-Hope in one house, Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi in one house, and Jungkook and Taehyung in the third house. You had also been surprised to learn that Jimin and Hoseok were actually staying in a different section of the house. You suddenly find yourself curious about what was in the rest of the house. You were forbidden from going into the boys’ section of the house, but you were free to go anywhere. So getting out of your bed you exit your room and go exploring.

The house was beautiful. You find the kitchen, the bathrooms, and even the living room. You had heard a rumor that there was a dance studio in the house and you wanted to find it. Dancing was one of the things that brought solace in your life, and another thing that made you feel even more love for Jimin. You then notice another door and walk towards it. You open it and are surprised to find a beautifully decorated atrium. One door said, “Boy’s dorm”, another door said “Gym”, and the last door off the large atrium was labelled “Dance Room.” You heard music and your curiosity was getting the better of you, so you go the door and open it. To your surprise, you see that there is already somebody in the room. Not just any somebody, but a somebody named Park Jimin.